Escape from Five Shadows (1956) by Elmore Leonard Page B

Chick's shoulder, Pryde saw Brazil coming toward them. He had left his horse close to the canyon wall, although there was no shade there now with the sun directly overhead, and was walking toward them, carrying the Winchester under his arm.
    You better shut your mouth, Pryde told Chick.
    Chick turned on him unexpectedly. Who in hell you think you are? You're no better than anybody else! You think
    You better shut up. Pryde saw Brazil coming up behind Chick.
    Why, because you say so? Chick placed his hands on his hips defiantly. I don't have to take anything from you or anybody like you! It's enough to have to stomach Renda and Brazil telling you what to do! Chick paused. One more year and I'm out of here and they're going to pay. Sure as there's a God upstairs they're going to pay for every last dirty thing they've done to me.
    You're sure about that?
    Chick did not move. Pryde saw the shocked surprise, then fear come over his face his eyes wide and his mouth open as if to cry out. Then, with an effort, with a lip-biting jaw-tensed effort, his expression slowly changed and his face was almost relaxed as he turned to Brazil.
    What're you going to do to me?
    What do you think? Brazil asked mildly.
    I don't want to get hit.
    I'll bet you don't.
    Listen Chick swallowed and the fear was in his eyes again I was just talking. You know how you get mad and say funny things
    I didn't think it was funny.
    Not funny. You know, you say things you don't mean.
    The first thing that comes into your mind.
    That's right. No! Wild, crazy things that you don't mean, but just so you'll be saying something.
    Like making me pay.
    Chick tried to smile. That's right. How could I make you pay? See what I mean, that's just crazy talk that came in my head.
    Brazil raised the Winchester, holding it across his chest. And you don't think I ought to hit you?
    Chick swallowed again. He started to back away. Beating me wouldn't solve anything.
    Maybe it wouldn't at that, Brazil said. He lowered the Winchester so that the stock was beneath his right arm. His right hand gripped through the lever. He moved toward Chick who half turned and began edging away.
    What are you going to do?
    Run down and tell Renda to come here, Brazil said.
    You mean it?
    I wouldn't say it 'less I did.
    You're not going to do anything to me?
    Go on.
    Chick edged away, still half turned looking at Brazil. He glanced up canyon to locate Renda, looked back at Brazil once more then turned, his quick short steps developing into a run. He had gone no more than thirty feet when Brazil fired. Chick stumbled as if trying to turn and Brazil fired again, the stock of the Winchester still under his arm and held just above his waist. He levered another shell into the chamber before his gaze returned from Chick Miller to the three men near him. His eyes moved slowly from Bowen to Pryde to the Mexican.
    He tried to run, Brazil said. You saw him. He tried to run away.
    Chapter 8
    Renda made them remove Chick Miller's clothes before burying him. Bowen and Pryde took turns digging a grave close to the canyon slope; then, after they had lowered Chick's body into it and pushed in the dirt, the Mexican covered the low mound with stones and marked the grave with a cross he had made by tying together two mesquite sticks with a length of pinyon root.
    He never learned to keep his mouth shut, Pryde said. They were walking back to the team now, the Mexican ahead of them dragging the chain to the next stump.
    There wasn't any sense to it, Bowen said. I saw him do it, but if I hadn't, I wouldn't believe it. You don't just kill a man like that like you don't have anything better to do.
    Now you know what kind Brazil is, Pryde said.
    It's hard to believe, Bowen said. A man with only a year left and he had to say the wrong thing.
    I wonder, Pryde said, if Renda will write to his wife.
    He's got a family?
    Sure, a wife and two girls in Wickenburg.
    Bowen shook his head. If he could've held out just one more year,